


Stand By Me

by WhiteravenGreywolf



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F, Madison is a ghost, Paranormal Investigators, Zoe is a ghost hunter, background foxxay, what could go wrong?, zadison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteravenGreywolf/pseuds/WhiteravenGreywolf
Summary: Zoe is a paranormal investigator spending the night at Miss Robichaux's Academy, trying to prove whether it trully is haunted. Madison has been stuck there for decades, but she just might have found her ticket to freedom, whether Zoe knows it or not.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode, Zoe Benson/Madison Montgomery
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	1. The Haunting of Miss Robichaux's Academy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I've been watching way too much Buzzfeed Unsolved since the beginning of quarantine, plus I just watched both Conjuring movies and the Haunting of Hill House. Unsurprisingly my brain thought this would be a good idea, and you know what, it was. This is a three-part story, I will be posting a chapter each day. I thought about maybe turning this into a series, but we'll see whether you guys like it.  
> Concerning Madison's ghostly abilities, I kept it mostly consistent with how ghosts are represented in the show, except for one detail that will come into play in the rest of the stories. Also, witches are not a thing in this story, and Miss Robichaux's Academy was never a school for witches.  
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy this story and I'll see you tomorrow for part 2!

Zoe made sure all of her equipment was rolling and focused correctly before she hurried back in her seat. She brushed a strand of brown hair back behind her ear. She gave the camera another second to hopefully adjust on her again, then said:

  
"This is Zoe Benson, interview with Cordelia Goode, take one."

  
Zoe then turned to the woman seating in the chair opposite hers. Cordelia was politely waiting for her, her legs crossed and a hand resting on her knee. Zoe smiled and decided to start.

  
"I'm here with Cordelia Goode, the owner of Miss Robichaux's Academy. Thank you for letting me investigate your house and agreeing to answer a couple of my questions."

  
"Of course. I mean it's not really my house. I haven't set foot in it since the repairs that were done a couple of years ago."

  
"How did you come into ownership of the house?" Zoe asked.

  
"I inherited it through my mother," Cordelia explained. "She bought it in the nineties when the previous owner put it up for sale but she'd never done anything with it. She simply bought it for sentimental value, because she'd attended school there when she was young."

  
"But you didn't?"

  
Cordelia shook her head.

  
"No, it closed before I did."

  
"Were you aware of the strange things happening there before you inherited it?"

  
"Absolutely not. I'd never been there, the building had been closed for decades so no one had been inside since the seventies, I think. No one had told me anything. I had plans to turn it into a Bed & Breakfast because it's a very big house, too big for me anyway, but after what happened during the repairs, I just closed it off completely."

  
"So you've never returned there?"

  
"I don't intend to, not after what I saw. My wife would probably kill me if I even thought about it. She says the house has very bad energy. Our daughters are a bit young right now, but I don't plan on ever telling them about the house. I'm not risking it."

  
"What sort of things did you see?"

  
Cordelia was thoughtful for a moment.

  
"Let's see... I slept into the house a few times overnight. I heard a lot of shuffling above my head as if someone was walking upstairs. I heard women speaking too, out of nowhere. A few times I thought I had imagined them but at one point they became so loud, at yet I still don't know what they were talking about. And one time I woke up and saw a tall man standing by my bed. That was the most terrifying of them all. Coupled with a few strange occurrences too. We tried repainting the walls but the paint wouldn't dry, not even after days, it just dripped away. The few doors that were changed were busted, some of the paintings I hung were taken off during the night. Strange things like that, which made the repairs impossible to complete."

  
Zoe nodded.

  
"Is there a history of hearing voices in your family?"

  
Cordelia shook her head.

  
"Not that I know of. It had never happened to me before, and has never happened to me again since."

  
"What about sleep paralysis? Waking up to see someone standing by your bed is a pretty normal sight when someone is a victim of sleep paralysis."

  
"I wasn't paralyzed," Cordelia replied quickly. "As soon as I saw him I ran to hide under the desk. When I looked back out, he was gone."

  
Zoe nodded. Then, she turned to Cordelia with a smile.

  
"Thank you for your time, I think that should be enough."

  
Zoe stood out and turned off her three video cameras and sound recorder. Cordelia stood out of her chair.

  
"You still want to go there? Even after what I just told you?"

  
Zoe took the cameras off their tripods and placed them in her bag.

  
"I'm even more interested to go there now. If there's a chance that I can finally record something tangible, I think it's gonna be in this house."

  
Cordelia set her and Zoe's chair around the table once again.

  
"You're a lot braver than me, then."

  
Zoe folded a tripod, placing it in a duffel bag.

  
"Or a lot stupider. That's what people tell me most of the time."

  
Cordelia watched as Zoe placed all of her equipment back in her many bags with expert ease.

"Just, be careful, okay? I don't like the idea of someone spending the night there alone."

  
Zoe picked up her many bags, throwing the straps over her shoulders and picking up the rest in her hand.

  
"I'm used to it by now. Don't worry."

  
Zoe held out a hand and Cordelia shook it.

  
"Call me when you get out."

  
"If I get out," Zoe joked. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  
"Good luck."

* * *

Zoe turned on her camera, then with her free hand, she pushed the metal gate open. She stepped in, and closed it off behind her, not to be reopened until the next morning. The sun had already set over New Orleans, and the imposing building was only lit by the streetlight outside. The grass of the garden had grown as high as Zoe's waist. She walked up the steps to the door.

  
"I am here, tonight, at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, a finishing school for girls, which operated between 1790 and 1972. The school was briefly turned into a hospital during the Civil War, more details on that later."

  
Zoe placed her hand on the handle and paused for dramatic effect.

  
"For a school, this building has seen some pretty horrible things."

  
She opened the door and stepped inside. The air was cold. It still smelled of fresh paint, although all the walls were white, and, according to Cordelia, they had been for centuries. Strangely enough, the paint wasn't flaking, it wasn't dirty, the walls weren't rotting and covered in mold. It looked as though the building was regularly cleaned and taken care of. Zoe took out her flashlight, lighting her path into the house.

  
"Look at this staircase..." Zoe commented as she paused by the grand double staircase, which led up to the other floors.

  
"We have a few things to see in here before I spend the night, so let's start with the beginning."

  
Zoe walked around until she found the room that she'd been looking for. It was a large room with a chimney, and many paintings hung on the walls. Cordelia told her this was where the paintings had been hung back on the walls after she'd taken them off. The painting themselves looked old, veiled by a thick layer of dust. Each painting was a portrait of a different woman, spanning the decades all the way to the 1970s.

  
"These are the portraits of all the headmistresses who worked at Miss Robichaux," Zoe explained out loud for her audience.

  
She panned the camera around, until the painting of a woman with blond hair tied into a bun, barely visible in the light of her flashlight.

  
"This is the last headmistress of the school, Anna Leigh Leighton. One of the reasons why the school closed, besides a decline in attendance, was because Leighton disappeared suddenly. Rumors began to spread that she had been killed by one of the ghosts. All I can tell you right now is that two years ago, the owner of the house had the grounds surveyed with ultrasounds to look for anything buried on the property, and they actually found a dozen bodies, some of which were impossible to identify. But Leighton's body was, along with a couple of others which I will try to contact tonight."

  
There was an antique-looking chair in the middle of the room. Zoe dusted it off quickly and turned it around until it faced Anna Leigh Leighton's portrait.

  
"I wish to speak with Anna Leigh Leighton. My name is Zoe. I heard you were a nice but strict headmistress, and this is a finishing school. And, you know, I never finished school. So if you have any advice to share with me, anything, I'm all ears."

  
Zoe fell silent, waiting to hear anything, a whisper, a sign, anything. She stared deep into the portrait's eyes. It stared back.

  
"Miss Leighton? Do you not have anything to say to me?"

  
Zoe waited a bit longer. She could hear the house groaning above her as if the higher levels were calling for her to come and investigate.

  
"Alright, then."

  
Zoe stood up and went to the living room, where she had left all of her equipment. She picked up one of the cameras she had readied and placed it at the right angle to film most of the room, and Leighton's portrait in particular.

  
"I also heard you had quite the temper. So..."

  
Zoe unhooked the portrait from the wall and placed it on the ground.

  
"Feel free to put your portrait back in place."

* * *

Crossing the garden to access the greenhouse was a real struggle, but Zoe made it eventually. The beam of her flashlight fell on dozens of flowerpots, either empty or filled with green strands of vegetation, which had usually overtaken the entire wall around them. Zoe flicked the old light switch but nothing happened.

  
"This is the greenhouse where the students would have been taught how to take care of plants, you know, to have a beautiful garden or whatever. Rumor has it, though, that a pretty tragic event happened here. Some of you might be familiar with the story of Delphine LaLaurie. If you are not, I suggest you check out my previous video. Anyway, LaLaurie was known for torturing her slaves in the most horrible fashion imaginable. One of her slaves, a man named Bastien, had a bull head stitched over his own. Despite that, he managed to escape and ran all the way to hide in this greenhouse, where he died from his wounds before anyone could help him. The tale of the Minotaur of New Orleans leads us to a story reported by a bunch of kids who tried to break into the house on Halloween. They didn't manage to get in, but they managed to get into the greenhouse, where they swore they heard the muffled screams of someone, which kind of sounded like a cow mooing."

  
Zoe pulled a sound recorded from her pocket, turned it on and checked the batteries one last time, making sure the recorder would last all night, before placing it on a nearby table.

  
"We'll see what we pick up in the morning."

* * *

Once the ground floor had been thoroughly explored and put under surveillance, Zoe made her way up to the first floor.

  
"There are ten bedrooms on this floor, I think, but I'm not going to explore them all. But there's one, in particular, that is definitely worth going to."

  
Zoe had memorized the path to the room to make sure she wasn't in the wrong one. Unlike the other doors in the hallway, however, this one was closed.

  
"Let's be polite and knock."

  
She knocked twice on the door, then stepped inside. She didn't know what she expected on the other side. An empty room. A pristine looking-room, as if magically preserved. Somehow, finding one with two rotting beds felt disappointing. She stepped inside and looked around.

  
"This bedroom belonged to a movie star. If you're a fan of 1940s movie you'll know exactly who I'm talking about. This bedroom belonged, for a brief time anyway, to one Madison Montgomery. She started her carrier when she was seven, and she was signed by MGM. She acted in a bunch of movies after that, until she was in her late teens. Then, she had a bad fallout with the studios, which I couldn't find much about. Apparently, she did something that she shouldn't have, but you know how studios are, always so quick to blame the other. Anyway, she was sent here, and during her stay, she also disappeared. Some people thought she had eloped with a young man she met in New Orleans. But just like with Anna Leigh Leighton, she was one of the identified bodies in the garden, which means she died here. Most theories suggest she was killed by Spalding, the butler of the school, who was under investigation for a while until he hung himself. Rumor has it he still haunts the school to kill, which is why people think he also killed Anna Leigh."

  
Zoe checked one of the beds, clearing the dust with her hand, and sat down.

  
"I wish to speak with Madison Montgomery. My name is Zoe. As you can see here I have many cameras on me. These are small cameras," she added, pointing to the Go-pros on her head and chest. "I would like to speak with you, maybe to know what happened to you, and why the studios decided to fire you."

  
Zoe pulled a small black box from her pocket.

  
"This device is going to be very loud, but it might help you communicate with me."

  
Zoe turned it on. Static loudly erupted into the room, before the sounds settled, and the static became easier to bear. Zoe placed it on the bedside table near her.

  
"Once again, my name is Zoe. Could you say my name back?"

  
"Zoe..."

  
The sound had been shaky, but Zoe was so sure she had heard her name being called that her heart stopped in her chest, and goosebumps erupted all over her arms. This was the fastest answer she'd ever had. Zoe began looking around for any sign of another person in the room as she spoke.

  
"Can you tell me your name?"

  
"Madi..."

  
The voice was that of a woman, but it seemed to have cut up as she tried to speak. However, Zoe was certain of who she was speaking to.

  
"Miss Montgomery, first I would like to say that I really like your movies, I think you were a very promising actor."

  
Zoe thought she heard more talking, but it was distorted by the static, and she couldn't quite comprehend what was said. Then, just as she was about to ask another question, she heard:

  
"Thanks..."

  
"You're welcome," she replied, trying to keep her excitement in check. "Could you tell me what happened to you?"

  
The distortion returned, and while Zoe thought she could get a few words, she wasn't entirely sure of what she'd heard.

  
"I think I head 'cut' and maybe 'throat'? That sounded like someone cut your throat."

  
The box seemed to explode with sounds, as the same female voice tried to speak, but once again, the meaning of her words was lost to Zoe.

  
"Seems to me you have a lot of things to say. Maybe if you show yourself we could have a real conversation."

  
Static returned. Zoe waited, holding her breath for something to happen.

  
"Madison, are you still here?"

  
When no answer came, Zoe let out a sigh of disappointment.

  
"Guess she left the conversation. This was... I mean, I have literal chills... It's the first time I've had such a long conversation."

  
Zoe turned off the static and picked up the black box again.

  
"Let's move on."


	2. Dreaded Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe settles in for a night in the haunted Academy, and Madison finally shows herself...

Zoe went around the house one last time to check her equipment, making sure it would last until dawn. Then, she made her way back to Madison Montgomery's room, her sleeping bag under her arm.

  
"I had planned to sleep in the master bedroom since that's where the tall man that I suspect to be the Axeman appeared, but Madison was a bit more willing to cooperate."

  
She lay her sleeping bag in the middle of the room, making sure she was visible by the video camera on a tripod in the corner. She took one last look around. Her heart was beating strongly in her chest, but she wasn't afraid. She was excited by what she hoped to find. She slipped into the bag, placing all of her Go-pros beside her. She took her hand camera and aimed it at her face.

  
"This is it, guys. I really hope if I wake up it's a 1940s movie star that will be standing beside me and not a serial killer."

  
She turned off the camera, took one last look at the room around her, at the open door, and the dark hallway. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and rolled to the side.

  
As she tried to calm her heart in her chest and attempted to contain her thoughts to a minimum so she would fall asleep more easily, she heard the house around her, creaking, groaning with every light breeze. There were distant sounds too, but she tried not to give them too much thought. It was probably the street outside, she thought. Cars driving by, people walking.

  
When sleep finally washed over her, there was a small bang downstairs, one that didn't wake Zoe up. The portrait of Anna Leigh was being hung back up on the wall, by none other than Anna Leigh herself, who looked at the portrait with satisfaction and made sure it was absolutely straight.

  
"How dare she," she muttered under her breath.

  
"How dare she what, pull your strings so easily?"

  
Anna Leigh turned around. Madison was reclined in the chair previous occupied by Zoe, her legs hanging over the armrest. She'd somehow gotten her hands on a metal file and was filing her nails as if it ever made a difference in what they looked like.

  
"Doesn't it bother you that she's sleeping in your bedroom right?"

  
Madison shrugged.

  
"Cute girl like her can sleep in my bed all she wants. What bothers me is that she precisely put this camera here to film the portrait being put in place, which you just did. So congrats on proving her right."

  
"She's not getting out of here alive anyway."

  
Madison frowned.

  
"Why would you say that?"

  
"I heard Spalding was on his way right now."

  
Madison threw the file away, letting it clatter to the ground, and she pushed herself out of the chair.

  
"Not on my fucking watch he won't."

  
Madison disappeared and reappeared in her bedroom. Zoe was soundly sleeping in her sleeping bag, to Madison's relief. She looked around at the collection of little cameras seating by Zoe, then at the big one on a tripod behind her. There was a sound recorded on the bed beside her, and Madison wondered how amusing it would be to speak directly into it. She had no idea how it would influence the recording.

  
The door creaked open a bit more, and Madison turned around. Spalding was standing by the door-frame.

  
"Get the fuck out of my room," Madison warned.

  
"Why? Just because she's in your room doesn't mean that she's yours to play with."

  
"Like hell, she isn't. My bedroom, my rules. And this one is mine."

  
Still, Spalding took a step closer.

  
"Get the fuck out of here!"

  
"I just want to invite her for tea."

  
"Like you invite me? No fucking way, you hear me?"

  
"I want her."

  
Madison stepped beside Zoe, who, still asleep, was completely oblivious to the danger she was in.

  
"I said she's mine!" Madison screamed. "Now get the fuck out of here before I decide to trash your precious collection again!"

  
Spalding glanced at Zoe over Madison's shoulder, but he finally walked away.

  
"Fine. You win this time, you spoiled brat."

  
Spalding disappeared, and Madison let out a sigh of relief. She turned around. Zoe had begun to snore lightly. Madison closed her bedroom door lightly, then turned around. She kneeled beside Zoe and stared for a moment at the young woman. When she finally dared to place a cold, ghostly hand on her cheek, Zoe's eyes flew open.

  
Zoe turned around but saw nothing. She sat up. Her cheek felt strangely cold. She placed her hand over it, feeling her own warmth on her skin. There was a bang above her, then another, then another. The footsteps Cordelia had mentioned. Zoe sighed and assumed the sounds must have woken her up. She lay back down, and closed her eyes, trying to let the footsteps above her lull her back to sleep.

* * *

After making sure that Zoe was safe and asleep, Madison went back downstairs, to where Zoe had left all of her bags full of her equipment. Madison began searching through every pocket. She found protection cases for Zoe's sound recorders and Go-Pros, spare batteries, that terrible box that made such a ruckus she'd used to communicate with her earlier. When she found a spare pocket, she slipped her sunglasses inside.

  
"What are you doing?"

  
Madison rolled her eyes and looked up at Nan, who was standing on the other side of the table.

  
"I'm getting out of here."

  
"It doesn't work that way."

  
"Of course it does. These are my sunglasses, the exact pair I was wearing when I was killed. I picked them up when they found my body."

  
Nan frowned.

  
"Why didn't you let them take them away then?"

  
"What? So I could end up haunting some police station or some creeps' apartment? No thank you. But this one..."

  
Madison made sure her sunglasses were hidden, and she closed off the bag again.

  
"This one she's taking me places."

  
This time Nan was the one who rolled her eyes.

  
"Don't come crying if you're still stuck here tomorrow."

  
"Oh, I won't be. Enjoy dealing with the crazies, cause I'm making a fucking comeback."

* * *

Zoe woke up shortly after dawn when the first few rays of the sun peaked through the window. Despite the walking above her head for most of the night, she'd slept rather well, which surprised her greatly. No one had come looming over her, no one that she could remember anyway. She waited just a few more minutes as if to give the ghosts a bit more time to act out before she went to dismantle her equipment.

  
She turned off all the recorders, folded every tripod she'd deployed throughout the house, and placed everything back in her many bags, exactly where it was supposed to be. She was disappointed to find the portrait in the living room was still on the ground, so she picked it up and placed it back on her wall herself.

  
"I'm sorry Miss Leighton. I doubt anyone is going to mess with your portrait for a while now."

  
After making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she threw all the straps of her bags over her shoulders and picked up her last camera to film her departure.

  
"Guess the Axeman decided to spare me. Goodbye house, goodbye ghosts. Maybe you should let the owner renovate, you know? Be a bit nicer to her."

  
She left the house and locked the door behind her. She opened the gate, locked it behind her, and pocketed the keys. Then, she shut the camera and placed it in the first bag she managed to get her hands on. She glanced back at the house, suddenly feeling an urgency to get away from it. It wasn't that she was scared of it, but mostly she was excited to see what her various recorders had picked up during the night. There was a sort of ecstatic energy vibrating around her that sent goosebumps on her arms.

  
She began walking away in search of a taxi and pulled out her phone. It was almost seven, and she hoped she wouldn't be waking Cordelia up. However, when her phone rang, Cordelia's voice came through clearly, as if she'd been awake for a while.

  
"Hello?"

  
"It's Zoe Benson. I just left the house."

  
"Good morning, Zoe. How was your night?"

  
"Calm, mostly. But I might just have slept through the worst of it. Should I come to give you the keys right now?"

  
"If you can make it in the next half hour. I need to get my daughter to school."

  
"I'll try."

  
Zoe hailed a taxi and it stopped slowly by the curb.

  
"If you can't just drop them in the mailbox."

  
"Okay. I'll see you then."

  
She hung up and stuffed all of her bags on the backseat until she could finally sit properly. She closed off the car door and gave Cordelia's address.

* * *

She made it to Cordelia's house fifteen minutes later. She told the driver to keep the motor going, and, though she was anxious, she left most of her equipment at the back of the taxi. She came to knock on Cordelia's door, the keys in hand. To her surprise, a girl came to answer the door.

  
"Can I help you?"

  
She had blonde hair and the same intelligent brown eyes as Cordelia.

  
"I'm here to see Cordelia Goode?"

  
"Mom!"

  
Cordelia appeared behind the six-year-old.

  
"It's alright, go get ready."

  
The girl ran back inside. Through the open door, Zoe could see another woman helping a two-year-old finishing her breakfast.

  
"Sorry, mornings are usually a bit of a rush."

  
"Here."

  
Zoe handed the keys to Cordelia, who took them hesitantly.

  
"What now?"

  
"Well, I'm going to start going through what I recorded last night, then it's gonna take about a week of editing. I'll send you the video before I post it."

  
"Sure."

  
"Thank you again for letting me investigate. I got some pretty interesting results before going to sleep."

  
"Like what?" Cordelia asked with a frown, crossing her arms.

  
"I might just have had a conversation with Madison Montgomery, of all people."

  
"The movie star?"

  
Zoe nodded.

"Lucky you. I get the serial killer and you get the movie star."

  
Zoe chuckled.

  
"Mom!" the six-year-old shouted from inside the house.

  
"I have to get back to work."

  
"Of course. Sorry for bothering you so early. And thank you again."

  
"Have a nice day."

  
"You too."

  
Cordelia closed off the door, and Zoe returned into the taxi quickly, giving her hotel's address. As she buckled her seatbelt, she failed to notice that her bags had been moved, just to make enough space for someone to sit against the opposite car door.

* * *

As soon as Zoe was locked alone in her bedroom, she began downloading the content of every single SD card on her computer, clearly labeling each file. She began with the sounds, passing each sound file through a program that would give her a visual on the sound patterns. It meant she could listen to where the sound spiked up directly, instead of having to listen to six hours of silence for a few seconds of weird noises.

  
She began by listening to the recording of the greenhouse. She isolated each spike in the sound waves displayed on the screen and pressed her hands on her headphones to listen in more closely, going as far as closing her eyes to focus. This one was a car passing nearby. Most of them sounded like cars passing nearby. But there was one, around two a. m., that didn't sound like a car. It sounded like muffled screams, like someone trying to a mask off of their faces and failing. Like a cow mooing, a deep, pained groan which made Zoe's entire being tremble. It lasted for the better part of five minutes, then the silence returned.

  
Zoe pulled the headphones off her ears. She'd never heard anything like it before, the death-rattles of a man, echoing through time, so powerful they still resounded two hundred years later. She swallowed, taking a second to breathe deeply, then went back to work.

  
While some of the files were still downloading on her computer, she went to change the batteries of one of the sound recorders, which was almost out. While searching through each pocket for where she kept her double As she pulled something strange out of her bag. An old pair of sunglasses, still covered with dirt. She frowned. She didn't remember taking sunglasses from any of the locations she'd been to. These certainly weren't hers. She looked around as if she expected a ghost to take them out of her hands. Finally, she placed the sunglasses on the counter by the flat-screen TV and decided to leave it at that.

  
She returned to her computer, ready to listen to what her sound recorder had picked up in the room while she'd been sleeping. Mostly it was silent, except for a sudden jump in the middle of the night, just before she had woken up. She assumed it was the footsteps, but decided to listen to it anyway. She expected bumps, wood creaking and maybe the sound of herself twisting and turning in her sleeping bag. Instead, she heard a voice, a female voice, which came as a whisper in her ears:

  
"Mine... Get... out..."

  
The voice distorted as it continued to speak. It was followed by the creaking of the door falling shut, then, finally, the banging on the ceiling. Zoe paused the recording and took off her headphones. It seemed she had pissed off Madison Montgomery by sleeping in her room. Zoe assumed it was only logical. She checked her arms and legs swiftly, but since she couldn't see any mark, she assumed the movie star must have given up on getting her out of her room. She put her headphones back on her head and moved on to the much more time-consuming video recordings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It's a bit of a 'let's stuff a bunch of important scenes in' chapter, so to speak, but trust me, chapter 3 is the best of the three, it's the entire reason I wrote this story to begin with, you will not be disappointed!  
> So, the big change that I made from the show is that while ghosts are confined to the place in which they die, they can attach their soul to an object, in which case the object becomes their anchor. They are restricted to where the object is located and can't get too far away from it if they're outside, and if the object is in a building they go anywhere in that building. Even though Madison's body was found and most likely burried somewhere, she chose not to move on, so she's still around.  
> I really want to ditch the whole paranormal investigator thing and just write about Cordelia and Misty and their daughters, it would be so much fluff!  
> Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow for the last part of the story!


	3. For Hire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While going to the hotel's restaurant for dinner, Zoe meets an interesting young woman...

Zoe was woken up by a strange feeling as if someone was poking her cheek. She opened her eyes, groaning, and looked around. She was alone in her hotel room. Her computer had gone to sleep almost as soon as she had. She'd decided to take a short nap. A glance at the clock told her that she'd actually slept for almost two hours. She was hungry, thirsty, and groggy from too much sleep.

  
Zoe got out of bed and stretched her back. She considered the computer beside her. She'd barely gone through half of the video recording in the bedroom. With a sigh, she closed her computer off and placed it on the table with the bags containing her equipment. She decided to go grab a bite and get back to work on editing her video on the LaLaurie mansion afterward. She picked up the menu from the counter but then decided to walk to the hotel's restaurant instead, thinking it would do her legs some good.

  
She picked up her wallet and keycard, then made her way out of the room. She ignored the elevator and walked down the stairs instead. She crossed the lobby, giving a polite smile to the woman at the reception, before stepping through the large opening of the restaurant. The restaurant was decorated like an old pub, with wood on every surface and large ancient ads for all sorts of alcohol hanging on the walls. It was for the most part empty, as it wasn't quite dinner time yet and Zoe imagined a lot of the tourists would rather go out to the restaurants downtown.

  
The bar was in the middle of the room, one large oval wooden counter, circling a long, double-sided shelf of bottles. Stools went all around the counter, except where a trap had been made to allow the bartenders in and out. The rest of the restaurant was occupied by round tables of various sizes, with chairs neatly placed around them.

  
Most of the patrons were either seating on one side of the bar, their backs to the entrance, or at a table, either talking with their friends or alone, working on their computers. Zoe rounded the counter and sat on the other side, as far away from everyone else as possible. She picked up a menu and began to look at it.

  
"We don't serve food for another fifteen minutes."

  
Zoe looked up to see a young man behind the counter, cleaning a beer glass. He was wearing one of those classic black and white uniforms that made him look like a penguin with a bow-tie. His blonde hair was swept over his forehead. He must have been a bit older than her, maybe a college student. He looked a bit embarrassed, giving an awkward smile and a vague shrug to accompany his statement.

  
"It's okay," Zoe replied. "Just give me a Coke for now. I'll wait."

  
The waiter nodded. He disappeared on the other side of the shelf, and when he reappeared, he placed a tall glass and a cold glass bottle in front of Zoe.

  
"I'll have a glass of champaign."

  
Zoe and the bartender both turned to Zoe's left side, surprised. A young woman was seated there, looking as though she'd been at the bar long before either of them. She was wearing an old-fashioned black dress, with a shirt collar and little white buttons descending all the way to a simple belt, in the same color as the dress. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders in smooth curls. A black chocker was wrapped around her neck. She had a cigarette in her hand and seemed to be looking for a lighter. Beside her rested a pair of sunglasses Zoe was sure she'd seen somewhere before. The woman looked at Zoe expectantly but Zoe shook her head.

  
"I don't have a lighter, sorry."

  
The woman rolled her eyes.

  
"Of course you don't. You wouldn't happen to be able to light things up with your mind, would you?"

  
"Not that I know of."

  
When the bartender returned with her glass of champaign, he noticed the woman's distress and pulled a matchbook out from under the counter. He lit up a match for her, and she brought her cigarette up to the flame. Zoe watched the woman take a drag, expecting her red lipstick to leave stains on the butt. However, when the woman pulled the cigarette away from her lips, it was still as pristinely white as before.

  
"Haven't I seen you before?" Zoe asked with a frown.

  
The woman was so familiar, she was certain she'd seen her before somewhere. Maybe it was the context, Zoe thought, maybe it was just seeing her in a hotel, seemingly dressed in out of fashion clothing that made it harder to remember where she'd seen her. The woman gave her a look, cold brown eyes falling over her.

  
"Have you now? Could have been on the silver screen."

  
"You're an actress? That's what you do for a living?"

  
"Who says I'm living?" the woman said with a smirk.

  
She took a drag of her cigarette, then sipped on her champaign. Zoe had completely forgotten about her own drink. She poured half of the bottle in the glass carefully, deciding to keep the other half for dinner.

  
"I'm an actress, yes," the woman confirmed. "I just haven't acted in much of anything lately."

  
"And you had an audition today?" Zoe asked.

  
"What gave it away?"

  
"The dress. Let me guess, some sort of 1940s drama?"

  
"A supernatural show, actually."

  
Zoe took a swig of her soda, thankful as the fresh drink gave her time to consider her next words.

  
"I'm sorry but... I mean, that thing you said, about living, was it a joke? Is it because of me? Do you watch my videos?"

  
The woman took another drag before she answered:

  
"No, I don't watch your videos, but I've heard of them. I have to say that I'm intrigued. Why would you go to haunted, most likely dangerous places on your own, just to spend the night?"

  
"I just want to prove that there is something out there, you know? After death and all that. I want to know. Is it so hard to understand?"

  
The woman gave Zoe a smile.

  
"No, it's understandable. So what, do you want to catch a ghost on camera?"

  
"That would be fantastic. But mostly, I want to speak with them, so they can tell me what's on the other side. They're the only one who knows what life after death is like, if there is any."

  
Zoe looked away from the woman and took a big swig of soda. She'd so rarely talked to anyone about this, it felt both relieving and stressful. The woman took another drag, then crushed her cigarette in the nearby ashtray. A bit of smoke continued to rise from the dead cigarette butt.

  
"So, had any good conversations with a ghost lately?"

  
Zoe shrugged.

  
"Maybe. Could have been a fluke, though. Could have been the machine bugging, just one big coincidence."

  
"Aren't you a bit too skeptical to be a ghost hunter?"

  
"I don't want to get my hopes up is all."

  
The woman finished her glass in a single swig. Then, she leaned toward Zoe, placing one hand on her thigh.

  
"Speaking of hopes, how about we continue this conversation somewhere a bit more private?"

  
Zoe's entire body froze, which the woman noticed instantly. She leaned back with a smirk.

  
"What? You think I didn't notice you staring at my lips for half an hour?"

  
"I... Sorry..."

  
Zoe cleared her throat.

  
"It's just... I'm not... I mean I've never..."

  
"Never been with a woman before?"

  
Again, the woman leaned forward, until she could whisper in Zoe's ear:

  
"Darling, no one has ever been with a woman before until they have."

* * *

Zoe was stunned for a moment, laying down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She took a deep breath. So, good news, she thought. Her partner wasn't dead. That's an improvement. She blinked and turned to look at the young woman. She'd reached for the matchbook taken from the bar and was lighting a cigarette. Zoe knew she should probably warn her that she couldn't smoke in the room. Instead, she said:

  
"I'm sorry I... I didn't catch your name."

  
The woman let out a long breath, but barely any smoke left her mouth. She rolled to lay on her side, head supported by one hand and cigarette in the other.

  
"Let's see... I like Miss Montgomery, but if we're to work together, Madison should be fine. Certainly not Maddie, or whatever your box said. I will kill you if you shorten my name in any way."

  
Zoe's felt electricity coursing through her entire body as she looked at the woman who claimed to be Madison Montgomery.

  
"What kind of sick joke are you playing at?"

  
The woman took another drag of her cigarette.

  
"It's funny, but for someone who claims to be so excited about wanting to talk to ghosts, you're fucking terrible at spotting them."

  
Zoe tumbled out of bed, pulling the sheets to cover herself.

  
"No... No way... No fucking way! You're not... We just! I can fucking touch you"

  
The woman rolled her eyes.

  
"Surprise? I bet you'd thought you'd seen the last of me when you left that old house. But aren't you glad I followed you here?" she added with a smirk.

  
Zoe's mouth hung open.

  
"Alright, that's it! Get out!"

  
"Whatever you want, doll."

  
With a wink, the woman disappeared from the bed. Not even disappeared. One second the was there, and the next she wasn't. Zoe thought she was going crazy. She sat back down on her bed, holding her head between her hands.

  
"This is not possible... I'm dreaming..."

  
"I know I'm a dream come true, but no, this is real," a disembodied voice said, making Zoe jump out of her skin.

  
"I am absolutely, two hundred percent dreaming."

  
"Oh my God."

  
The woman reappeared suddenly in front of Zoe, fully dressed and with her lit cigarette still in her hand.

  
"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I am a ghost when I just disappeared and reappeared in front of you."

  
Zoe shook her head vigorously.

  
"I can't... Do you know how long I've been waiting for something like this?"

  
"Well, the wait is over! Get over it!"

  
"I feel... I feel robbed..."

  
"What are you muttering on about now?" Madison sighed.

  
"I wanted... I thought..."

  
"What? Finish your sentence."

  
"It doesn't matter," Zoe decided.

  
"You wouldn't be making such a fucking big deal if it didn't. Come on, out with it so we can move on to more constructive conversations."

  
"I didn't want it to be you," Zoe shouted back. "There's someone... I wanted it to be him, I wanted him to come to me, not..."

  
Madison took a deep breath, containing her impatience when she heard Zoe's voice break.

  
"Well, too bad, it's me. I know, I'm never anyone's first choice. But we can make something out of this."

  
Zoe shook her feelings away. She stood up and quickly began to get dressed again.

  
"You can't stay here. I don't even know how you managed to get out of the house but..."

  
Zoe paused, her fingers ready to zip up her pants while her brain connected the dots.

  
"The sunglasses."

  
She looked over at the pair of dirty sunglasses besides the table.

  
"If you could put these back where I hid them, by the way. I don't want to be stuck here haunting a dumb hotel."

  
"I'm not keeping you with me."

  
"Why not? You saw what happened, humans can't even tell I'm dead."

  
"So what? Do you want me to drop you off on a movie set or something? I'm not going to LA just for you, I have other things to do."

  
Madison took one last draft of her cigarette before crushing it in the ashtray on the table.

  
"No, movies are over now. I may have been stuck in a house for seventy years, but I know what will bring me back to the top in no time. The Internet. So, I want you to make me your partner."

  
"What?"

  
"On your ghost hunting show. I want to be your partner. I mean, how fucking hilarious would it be if this entire time we were trying to prove that ghosts are real, when I'm an actual ghost hosting the show? You have to admit that it's a pretty good joke."

  
Zoe shook her head.

  
"I don't need a partner."

  
"Oh, come on. What can I do to convince you? I already slept with you, I don't think there's much more than I can do at this point. Plus I basically saved your life from a serial killer ghost last night, so, you know, you owe me your life."

  
Zoe sat back down on the bed with a frown.

  
"You really thought sleeping with me was going to convince me to hire you?"

  
"It's worked before," Madison replied with a wink.

  
Zoe decided not to pursue the subject, horrified by the prospect. 1940 really was another time.

  
"I'm sorry. I mean, thank you, for saving my life, but I'm not dragging you around the country with me for nothing. I just proved that ghosts are real. I mean, you did, for me. Odds are if you were near me last night, I must have you on camera at some point. I can stop, I have the ultimate proof."

  
Madison was having none of it.

  
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? This is my one chance to make a comeback! Don't be so fucking selfish, okay?"

  
Zoe sighed. She walked around Madison and picked up her laptop. She reopened the recording from the camera in the bedroom and she sped it up, looking for the right moment.

  
"If it's a comeback you so desperately want, just think what people will say when you're the first ghost committed to camera. It might just restart your career."

  
Madison thought about it for a moment. Zoe's focused on the video, but by the time it reached its end, she hadn't seen anything remotely close to Madison.

  
"Are you sure you were in frame?"

  
Madison moved to sit beside Zoe, staring at the screen as well.

  
"For Christ's sake, yes, I even touched your fucking cheek. If you can see you, you should see me."

  
"When?"

  
"Don't know. Past midnight? I stopped Spalding from slashing your throat, then I closed the fucking door."

  
"Oh no..."

  
Zoe knew exactly what moment Madison was referring to. She'd seen it earlier in the afternoon, and had filed it under 'weird but could be weirder'. The door creaked open, then a minute later, it closed completely on its own, slowly enough not to wake her.

  
"So, apparently, ghosts don't appear on camera."

  
"What?!"

  
Madison forcefully pulled the laptop toward her.

  
"Well, shit..."

  
Zoe offered a comforting smile.

  
"So, I guess a ghost hunting show hosted by a ghost is out of the question."

  
Madison stood up, shaking her head.

  
"Doesn't matter. You still need me."

  
Zoe frowned.

  
"I need you?"

  
"I can help you get in touch with the ghosts better than your little black box ever could. And I can protect you from the psychotic ones. What do you say?"

  
Zoe put the laptop beside her. She pursed her lips thoughtfully.

  
"I don't know..."

  
"Do I have to fuck you again for you to agree?"

  
"Don't," Zoe warned.

  
Madison crossed her arms with a seductive smile.

  
"Don't lie, you loved it."

  
Zoe sighed.

  
"Fine. We're deal."

  
Madison held out her hand. Zoe hesitated, then tentatively reached for it. Madison's hand was cold against hers, but she was there, tangible.

  
"I know already exactly where we can shoot the next episode," Madison said with a satisfied smirk and a glint in her eyes that worried Zoe.

* * *

Zoe found that the only way to get most of the house into frame was by crouching by the gate and looking up. Madison was standing beside her, arms crossed, waiting. From the outside, they looked like a duo of ghost hunters getting ready to shoot. Zoe as the professional cameraman, making sure to get every angle of the house. Madison, as the exasperated partner who grew tired of the brunette's antics. So she stepped in front of the lens, knowing full well that it would only bother Zoe and not the recording.

  
"Are you done yet? People are not paying to see an old brick house, they're paying for the spooky stuff."

  
"People are not paying," Zoe reminded her.

  
She sighed and stood up. She put on her helmet, slipped her Go-pro into the strap on her chest, and picked up her recorder once again.

  
"Have you convinced them to speak?"

  
"Not everyone. Mostly they want to be left alone. But I'll get them to talk, don't worry."

  
"Let's get to it then."

  
Zoe walked out of the gate to make her grand entrance, then started recording on her hand camera.

  
"This is Zoe Benson entering the house, take one."

  
She took a deep breath, then began walking again.

  
"We are here in Los Angeles, not at night because I've been forbidden to spend the night there but still here all the same. If you remember in the previous episode I spoke with Madison Montgomery, movie legend."

  
That last addition to the script had been made by Madison.

  
"Today we'll be exploring the history of another member of the Montgomery family, namely Charles Montgomery, uncle to Madison. He built this house for his wife Nora in 1922, but ever since their death four years later this house has garnered the reputation of a haunted house, or as it is known in the paranormal community, a murder house. Let's go inside..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This whole bar scene was the reason why I wrote this story and I am so happy with how it turned out! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and this story in general!  
> As I previously mentioned I thought about continuing the story with a few sequels. So far I counted six possible other haunted locations that the two could visit, and it would give me a great chance to explore their relationship. So if you're interested by this idea just let me know!  
> Once again, I hope you enjoyed this story and I hope you have a nice rest of the week!


End file.
